


Undeserved Kindness

by TechnologicalNoiz



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Other, kindaish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 17:44:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18078047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TechnologicalNoiz/pseuds/TechnologicalNoiz
Summary: Danny is an addiction you can't quite seem to kick, not that you would want to even if you could. He is small smiles and soft voices shared during quiet mornings. His touch is electric setting every part of you body a flame. His voice is soothing, eases the pain, calms the nerves. He is a safe space free from nightmares and paranoia, a dream that is too good to be true.





	Undeserved Kindness

Danny is an addiction you can't quite seem to kick, not that you would want to even if you could. He is small smiles and soft voices shared during quiet mornings. His touch is electric setting every part of you body a flame. His voice is soothing, eases the pain, calms the nerves. He is a safe space free from nightmares and paranoia, a dream that is too good to be true.

Danny is a lifeline. Someone that you don't deserve, too sweet and too much of a hero to be tainted by the cruelty of your past, of your present. You should stop and yet you keep coming back for more. You want him. You  _need_ him…

“What are you thinking about?” His voice draws you out of your thoughts.

Your smile is strained, your response takes too long. “You.” You stand walking over to him to pull him in for a quick kiss. His breath tastes sweet like the syrup he just ate. Intoxicating. This is a dream and one day you  _will_ wake up.

“What about me?” His smile is light but you can tell he's worried, the perks of being a telepath. You have been more quiet than usual, your frown more severe and shoulders more rigid. You will never get used to how much attention he pay to you, noticing every little detail, things no one else even bothered to try to learn.

“Stop worrying. I'm fine.”

“If you say so.” He is not convinced, but doesn’t want to pry if you don’t want to talk about it.

“Danny, I'm alright. I promise.” You lie. It's nothing new. You've been lying as long as you can remember. If you were put under a magnifying glass and stripped of all of your lies there would be nothing left of you. “I need to get going.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later?” A question. It’s always a question, like he is unsure if you will come back. He doesn’t know that he is your addiction, your weakness. Something that you will enjoy to the fullest extent until it is ripped from your hands.

“Of course.” You smile kissing him one last time before walking out of the door.

* * *

You hit Herald in the nose an explosion of red forming around your fist. He spirals backwards through the air colliding with the wall of a building. He managed to dodge the worst of the blow. You don't want to hurt him. You have to. You don't have a choice. He is in the way and if you go easy on him it will mess up years of planning.

He comes rushing back in. You easily dodge his attacks his mind is still too open. “Tisk, tisk. You’ll never win if you keep fighting like this.” You grab one of his arms, swinging him around to kick him in the ribs. You feel them give under your heavily armored boot, his mind momentarily going white with pain. They are definitely cracked.  He crashes into the ground gasping for breath.

You stalk over picking him up by the neck and slamming him against a wall, his feet dangling off of the ground. “You are too soft.” Your hand tightens slightly as he struggles to breathe. His neck will be bruised. “You care too much about what happens to those around you. Collateral damage, that will break you.”

“Shut up.” He grasps your hand trying to pry your fingers off of his neck. “You’ll never understand.”

A sharp bark of laughter bubbles from your chest. You lean in close as you sneer, “Trust me. I do understand. I understand that this world is rotten and doesn’t deserve saving. You are just wasting your time playing the hero. You think these people will be grateful?” Another laugh. “Well think again. The moment you slip up they will throw you to the wolves. You are nothing more than a glorified scapegoat in their eyes.” You slam him back against the wall, a strangled gasps escapes his lips. “One day you will see how quickly they can turn.” You hit him in the jaw hard enough to knock him unconscious, his body crumpling to the ground as you release your grip on his throat. The others will be here soon and you are in no mood to fight them. He needs to stop rushing in. One day it will get him killed.

* * *

“Hey, how you holding up?” You ask as you slide open the door to his hospital room assessing his condition. There are stitches along the bridge of his nose, the blood from the break is already starting to pool under his eyes causing deep bluish-black bruises to form there. The whites of one of his eyes turned red from a burst vessel, a visible hand mark on his throat. The left side of his jaw turning purple from where your fist made contact and those are only the wounds you can see. You know that cuts and scrapes litter his body, some of them quite nasty bleeding through the bandages. At least two of his ribs are fractured and he is bound to have a concussion.

“Well,” he winces as he sits up, “I've definitely been better.”

You walk over placing a light kiss on his split lips. You did this to him. He doesn't know it, thinks that you are simply a retired hero that he used to admire then fell in love with. He is so incredibly happy that you are here and a part of you feels guilty. “Yeah, I can see that.” You sit next to him on the bed. “How long they gonna keep you here this time?”

“A few hours. I have a concussion and a couple fractured ribs but nothing is broken to severely this time.” He sighs carefully resting his head against your shoulder. You put your arm around him. He relaxes against you, his frantic mind calming in your presence. At least nobody was killed this time. His thought, not yours.

“That's… good. I'll wait with you.” You place a small kiss to the top of his head, his hair smelling like debris and sweat.

“You don't have to.” His voice is small, slurred slightly from exhaustion.

“No but I want to.”

“Yeah, alright.” You don’t need to see his face to know that he is smiling.

“Try to get some rest until they decide to let you out of this damned place.” He simply nods, closing his eyes. You settle in to wait holding him close when you have no right to. The only reason he is injured again is because you put him here.

When they discharge him you make your way back to his place both of you taking a cab. He could have flown, but it would put too much strain on his body to carry you as well. The ride back to Daniel’s apartment is slow and you can tell he is a bit twitchy. He doesn't take any form of transportation often and he clearly would rather be flying, but his desire to stay near you outweighs his discomfort.

Once you are inside you help him change out of his torn, dirty suit, before making your way to his bathroom, that is larger than it has any right to be. Showering is not really an option for him at the moment so you sit him on the edge of the bath. With careful, trembling hands you wipe away the grime and blood from his skin. He notices that your hands are shaking but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just sits there watching as you gently wipe away the muck.

Without his clothes on your can see the full extent of his injuries. Purple blooming on his chest, red dying the white of the bandages on his side, along with dozens of other bruises and scrapes. You did this to him. You can’t stop the tears from stinging your eyes. You could have killed him. You wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself. One day you will take it too far and you will break him beyond repair leaving him crippled or dead. You clench the rag tightly in your fist, bowing your head as you bring your other hand up to cover your eyes. You drag in a ragged breath forcing your feelings into a neat little box willing the tears away. You have no right to be so worried.

The hand on your shoulder makes you jump. “Hey are you alright?” The question is so ridiculous and full of concern that you can’t stop the laugh, brittle and angry, rising from your chest.

“Am I alright?” You snap, sharply looking up at him. He flinches. This is not fair to him, you know that and yet you can’t stop the anger. You are angry at him for being so kind, so careless. You are angry at yourself for hurting him and knowing that you can’t stop. You are angry at the world for delivering someone so perfect into your hands knowing full well that one day it will be ripped away. “You’re the one that’s injured and your are asking if I’m alright?!”

He holds your gaze. Anger is your protection mechanism, he knows that. “Yes.” A simple answer to a rhetorical question. You look away from him resuming your work. An uncomfortable silence descends upon you. You are quiet for a few minutes as you finish wiping away the last of the muck. That cut on his side will need re-wrapped, it’s already bleed through the bandages too much.

You carefully peel away the dressings. You don’t want to hurt him, you already did that enough tonight. When you next speak your voice is shaking, accusing… weak. “Why do you do this?” You gently re-wrap the wound on his side, stitched so perfectly back together. A wound that you caused.

“What do you mean?” He doesn't know what you are talking about the change in subject was too sudden. Why does he worry about you? Why does he care? Those too, but that is not what you are asking, not right now.

“Why do you fight? Why are you a hero? You keep getting hurt so why continue?” His mind stills as he thinks of an answer to a question that should be simple though it is anything but.

“I… well… reasons change.” He looks away from you, expression serious. “Right now I fight cause I have to. If I don't,” he looks back at you eyes locking with yours, “people will get hurt.” You. You might get hurt. “With this new villain, they made it personal,” the muscle in his jaw jumps, “the moment they took the name Sidestep. At first it was about defending the name of the hero I admired, but then it became more than that. For multiple reasons.” He rests a hand gently on the side of your face. “I love you and the thought that something may happen to you or that you could be targeted for being close to me… it scares the hell out of me. More than anything ever has before.” He rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed, breath tickling your skin. “I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

It's too much. He is always too much. Why did you ask? You should have stopped the words before they left your mouth, but you couldn't. A small part of you is constantly worried about hurting him. You can't stop. Stopping means giving up, laying down to die, letting them find you. You won't go back and you won't give up on your plans. You have killed, tainted your hands with blood of those who did not deserve to die. But Daniel doesn't know that. One day he will and when that day comes the softness in his eyes will change to a mixture of pain, disgust and hatred.

You don't want to think about that. You know it will happen and yet you don't want it to. You want to live wrapped in the warmth of his affection for as long as possible. And so you kiss him carefully, mindful of his wounds, his split lip, black eye, busted nose. You kiss him because you need to, because you are drawn in by his soft lips and sweet voice, a siren calling a sailor to their doom, though it is one you will embrace with open arms. Danny is your addiction, one that will destroy you. You won’t sleep tonight, if you do you will be plagued by nightmares even in his comforting presence.


End file.
